


Flock the Halls

by Aviandalek



Category: Maximum Ride - James Patterson
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Gen, My Characters Now, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, fuck jp, rushed but i had fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21939964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviandalek/pseuds/Aviandalek
Summary: The flock settles in for Christmas Eve. Little to no plot to speak of.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 22





	Flock the Halls

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by headcanons from Automaticthree-sixty on tumblr:  
> https://automaticthree-sixty.tumblr.com/post/189639441975/christmas-headcanons

“Does Santa like chocolate milk?” Angel’s sweet voice floated over to Max’s ears as she rattled through the kitchen cabinets for the Christmas cookie cutters. She saw Fang visibly tense and Iggy raised a hand to his mouth in a vain attempt to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah, Angel! He loves the stuff!” he said, handing her another plastic bobble to put on the tree. They’d stopped using the glass ones after...The Incident.

“Oh! We should put two glasses out for him!” Angel chirped, standing on her tiptoes to reach a higher point of the tree. 

Max peeked over the kitchen island to see Fang’s reaction. He looked visibly ill, and Max had to hold her nose to keep from snorting with laughter. 

Fang had assumed that taking over the role of flock Santa after Jeb disappeared would be easy; just staying up later than the younger kids and slipping some presents under the tree. Maybe eating some cookies, and that was it. 

He, unfortunately, forgot about the milk aspect, but his lactose intolerance absolutely did not. Max got mad at him every time he tried to pour it out, and even more mad if he tried to put it back into the carton. 

“Do you know how much milk costs out here?” she would say, waving vaguely in the direction of the closest supermarket. “No way I’ll let you just waste it like that.” And she would push the glass further into his hands. Apparently, pouring it back into the carton was “gross” and “fucking nasty, Fang, what the hell?” so he was stuck trying to drink it without exploding.

Fang also failed to take into account that the flock had a local psychic, and he almost ruined Angel’s first real Christmas when the then-four year old asked him why he was thinking about putting her to bed so early. He managed to worm his way out of it by explaining the whole “Santa won’t come if you’re awake” thing, and she seemed satisfied with that.

But after that close call, Fang forced Max and Iggy to help him in his holiday duties. They somehow always managed to squirm their way out of drinking the milk, though, which Fang assumed they did on purpose, but if it meant not seeing Angel cry about Santa hating the treats they left out for them, he’d do it.

But that didn’t stop Iggy from egging Angel on.

“You know, we could probably leave an entire gallon out for him and he’d empty it,” he grinned, flicking his sightless eyes in Fang’s direction, who returned a sneaky middle finger he couldn’t see.

Max bit back a grin as she heaved the box of shaped cookie cutters onto the kitchen island. She decided she'd intervene. 

“Well, he  _ could  _ drink it all,” she said nonchalantly, digging through the box for the reindeer shaped cookie cutters. “But he's got, like, a billion other houses to go to. You remember that time Iggy dared Gazzy to drink an entire gallon of milk and hold the empty jug over his head?” Max knew that none of them would forget that. On particularly hot days, the house still kind of smelled like milk vomit. 

Angel made a face and stuck her tongue out. 

“Yuck! I remember...Will that happen to Santa?” Max nodded sagely, finally finding the right cookie cutters. 

“Yup. He can only handle so much in a single night. Do you want to be the reason he barfs all over some poor sap’s house?”

“No!” Angel shrieked, violently shaking her head back and forth, her white curls whipping around her face. “No, no, no!!!”

“No worries, Ang. We’ll just set the one glass out,” Max grinned, glancing to Fang. He scowled at her and bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “Iggy, I got everything set up over here. You're up. I’ll go grab your little helper.” Max pushed off the counter, clearing up space for Iggy to start on their cookies. She was a miserable cook with anything more complicated than emptying a can of soup into a bowl and popping it into the microwave, so letting Iggy take over the consumable part of their holiday festivities was the best option. Plus, if Max got to stuff herself silly with cookies she didn't have to make, all the better. 

Angel looked like she was handling decorating the (lower half of the) tree for now, and Fang busied himself digging through their stacks and stacks of VHS tapes for some Christmas movies Jeb had played for them for them every year. So Max decided to check on Nudge and Gazzy. 

She knocked on the door to Nudge and Angel’s shared room and cracked it open. 

“Hey, Nudge, you ready to dec-” Max started, but was cut off by a panicked Nudge. 

“Ah, shit! Don't come in!” She hissed, scrambling to hide something. Her broad, tawny wings hovered protectively over the makeshift craft station in front of her. “I'll be done in a few minutes, just don't look, Max!” Max covered her eyes exaggeratedly. 

“Alright, alright! Iggy’s only just now starting on the cookies, so it'll be about half an hour until they're done. Then it's decorating time.”

“Right, right, just get  _ out of here! _ ” Nudge huffed, shooing Max out. The door slammed shut the instant Max was out of the doorframe. She chuckled to herself, shaking her head. Leave it up to Nudge to still be working on gifts on Christmas Eve. Although, she always managed to come up with the coolest gifts for everyone. Max still wore the altered sweater Nudge made her last year. It was thick and cozy, but Nudge had sewn a flap in the back for her wings.

“It’ll keep you, like, totally warm when you’re flying!” Nudge had told her, eyes glittering with excitement, and it absolutely did. Max also really loved the striped reindeer pattern.

She knocked on the door to the room Gazzy and Iggy shared, waiting a beat before she came in, lest she have another preteen swear at her. She peeked around the door to see him sitting on the floor.

“Hey, Gazzy. Iggy’s making cookies. Wanna help?” Gazzy grunted something. “Full sentences, bud.”

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I just- Ow! Fuck!”

“Language, Gazzy. You can swear when you turn 10,” Max said calmly, opening the door more to come see what he was doing.

“Sorry, Max. I’m just trying to finish Angel’s gift.” Gazzy lifted what looked like a homemade doll with a sewing needle and thread still dangling from it. The craftsmanship was messy; the stitches were uneven and stuffing was falling out of places. The head was lumpy and the button eyes were two entirely different colors and sizes.

“It’s looking nice, Gaz,” Max commented, looking over it. He sighed.

“You always tell us not to lie, Max,” he said morosely, looking back at the doll. “I know it doesn’t look very good. I thought that since I was good at helping Iggy make bombs and stuff, I could make Angel a doll. Cause there’s one on tv that keeps showing up that she keeps saying she wants it, but I don’t have any money to get it for her.” The poor kid looked near to tears now. Max gave him a gentle smile and pulled him to her chest in a hug.

“She’s going to be happy with it no matter what,” she reassured him.

“But what if she hates it?” came Gazzy’s muffled reply.

“Since when has Angel hated anything?” He was silent for a moment before sniffling and pulling back. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and looked down.

“I don’t know,” he mumbled.

“Then I know she’s going to love it. It’s not everyday that you get a doll made just for you,” Max said reassuringly.

“Yeah...I should have asked Nudge to help me. She knows how to sew.” He looked down at the shoddy doll in his hands, silently considering it. “Maybe she can next year.”

“That’s the spirit!” Max cheered, clapping Gazzy on the shoulder. “Now, finish that, go wash your hands, and help our local chef make some fuckin’ baller cookies.” She gave him another comforting pat and left the room, closing the door gently. She let out a breath and started towards the living room. Behind her, Nudge popped her head out of her room and scurried to the living room, placing all five of her packages underneath the tree with a firm nod.

“Got ‘em all done?” Max asked with a simper.

“Barely,” Nudge sighed, flopping on the couch. “But I think everyone’s really gonna like theirs this year. Especially you.” Nudge grinned at Max.

“Oh, am I? Guess we’ll see about that tomorrow, huh?” she teased, and Nudge bit back another smile, trying very, very hard not to tell Max about her gift.

“Yeah! You’re gonna love it, Max!” Angel agreed, digging through the box of ornaments with a massive grin plastered on her face. 

“Found it,” Fang said, holding a VHS tape above his head. Max walked over to him, plucking it out of his hands. It was an old copy of  _ Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer _ . It was basically a flock staple for Christmas. Angel had even asked to watch it a few times during the summer. 

“Movie time?” Max asked, holding it up for the rest of her family to see. She was met with excited whoops, so she popped it into the VHS player.

The tape was pretty old, and Max was afraid that it would wear out sooner or later, but it played just fine for now. She wasn’t exactly sure where she’d even get something like that. The tape they had now (all of their tapes, actually) had come from Jeb. He’d left them with stacks and stacks of them after he disappeared. Around this time of year, she missed him. She missed him so much that it physically hurt sometimes. She half expected him to walk through the door and jokingly ask them why they’d started without him. But she knew he was gone.

Max shook her head as she settled with Angel on the couch. No thoughts like that now. Now was the time for fun thoughts. And thoughts that consisted of exactly what Angel’s gifts  _ were not. _

Gazzy eventually came into the living room, his last present, Angel’s present, clutched tightly in his hands, carefully, but messily wrapped in Christmas  _ My Little Pony _ wrapping paper. He flashed a confident grin to Max, then put it underneath the tree before scampering to the kitchen to help Iggy with the cookies.

They wrapped the night up that way, watching movies, decorating cookies, teasing each other about what gifts they got for each other. It felt warm, and safe, and soft. A perfectly picturesque Christmas Eve.

The credits for  _ Elf _ rolled across the screen and Max surveyed her flock. Angel and Gazzy were fast asleep. Angel had passed out not long after the start of the film, but Gazzy put up a good fight and lasted at least halfway. Nudge’s eyelids fluttered as she tried to stay awake. Fang and Iggy were wide awake, fueled by secretly caffeine spiked hot chocolate.

Max carefully stood, careful not to jostle Angel too much.

“Nudge, sweetie,” she whispered. “Bedtime.”

“No,” Nudge mumbled, eyes half mast. “No, I’m good. I’m gonna stay up with you guys this year.” Max smiled.

“Nudge, you’re basically already asleep. Let’s get you to bed.” She took the girl by the hand and, with only a little bit of a fight, managed to get her to her bed. Max laid Angel in her bed, and tucked her in before doing the same for Nudge.

“Goodnight,” she whispered to them as she closed the door. Max turned in the hall to see Fang closing the door to Gazzy’s room.

“He asleep?”

“Yup.”

“Guess it’s Santa time.”

“Let’s go, you jolly red bastard,” Max said, grinning again.

Together, Max, Fang, and Iggy retrieved presents from obscure places in the house and a few outside as well. Angel’s mind reading powers made hiding gifts from “Santa” a struggle, but the other two were just as nosy about their presents. Because of this, making sure that no one could find their presents before December 25th had turned into an olympic sport among the older kids.

By the time that all of the presents had been collected from their strange hiding spots, it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas,” Max said, letting herself fall onto the couch.

“Merry Christmas,” Fang replied, dropping next to her with a sigh.

“We should try Kwanzaa next year,” Iggy said, draping himself on the back of the couch. The other two stared at him. He waited a beat before he shrugged, assuming that they weren’t going to give him a verbal response. “It’s something different. And it’s also a week long. Extra festive.”

“Right. I’ll be sure to get you a kinara for next year,” Fang said dryly, but Iggy grinned as he exchanged a sightless glance with Max, who sat up and held her hands behind her back. Fang warily looked between the two.

“What?”

“Speaking of gifts,” Max said, pulling a box out. “Since it’s technically Christmas, here’s our gift to you.” Cautiously, Fang took the gift and opened it, slowly.

“What’s his face look like? Is he pissed? Or like, so overjoyed he can’t even speak? Give me the play-by-play, Max.”

“What the fuck is-” Fang squinted at the label. “Lactaid?”

“That, my dear Fang, is the solution to your Santa dilemma,” Iggy said, wrapping an arm around his neck with near perfect aim. “Also it was totally my idea, so you can call me a genius any time.”

“Alright. And what’s that supposed to mean?” Fang asked, turning the box over in his hands.

“Geez, Fang, I know we’re all pretty illiterate, but I didn’t know you were this bad,” Max said, shaking her head solemnly. “It means you can drink dairy without spending the rest of Christmas in the bathroom, dumbass.” Fang stared at the box again.

“How long has this been a thing?”

“Like, forever.”

“...and how long have you known about this...Lactaid thing?” Max grinned.

“Like, forever.”

“And you let me suffer like this for this long because?”

“We just thought you’d appreciate it more when we gave it to you,” Iggy said with a helpless shrug.

“Was that also the reason you made me drink the milk for the past three Christmases?”

“Nah, that’s just ‘cause we’re jerks,” Max said, gently punching Fang on the arm. Fang looked at the box of pills in his hands, then at Max and Iggy before shaking his head with a smile.

“Merry Christmas, you assholes.”


End file.
